


Dwarven Ale

by Himring



Series: Elves go and see Telchar [1]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alcohol, Bechdel Test Pass, Cross-cultural, Gen, Mereth Aderthad, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:44:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2478590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Himring/pseuds/Himring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four First Age encounters involving dwarven ale:<br/>Finrod Felagund and Cirdan at Mereth Aderthad (before Finrod learned much about dwarves!);<br/>Curufin and Caranthir, sons of Feanor, in Thargelion;<br/>Telchar, Maeglin and his father Eol in Nogrod;<br/>Andreth and her teacher Adanel in Dorthonion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dwarven Ale

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Homophone Challenge at Tolkien Weekly on Livejournal.  
> Prompt was: Ail/Ale!

  
At first, on waking, Finrod was convinced he had been struck down by some hitherto unknown but catastrophic ailment endemic to Middle-earth, but then he realized it was just the vilest hangover he had ever experienced. Water—he needed water, badly. He staggered out of his tent towards Ivrin’s pools and encountered Cirdan, who, unfairly, seemed fresh as a daisy.

'Why didn't you warn me about that hazardous brew from Ossiriand?' Finrod asked. 'It has the kick of an irate mule!'

Cirdan laughed, too loudly. Finrod winced.

'Ealc’s elderberry wine?’ Cirdan said. ‘That's nothing. Wait until you've tried dwarven ale!'

 

'You seem to be ailing somewhat this morning,' Curufin commented, amused.

Caranthir eyed his brother darkly.

'Just for that, I shouldn't warn you. You seem to be convinced you can handle them so much better than I can. But, I tell you, praise their skills. Learn their language. Bargain. Whatever you do, just don't touch their ale!'

 

‘Why so glum, lad?’ boomed Telchar. ‘Have a little drink! Good for what ails you!’

Maeglin wished he dared glance at his father for help.

The dwarf had just placed before him, large as a child’s bathtub, a tankard brimming with foaming ale.

 

Andreth looked at the jotted notes before her.

 _Against ailing insides,_ she copied carefully.

_Dig up roots of the plant called gallock. Dry and pound to powder. Mix with an eggshell of dwarven ale and honey. Give to drink early in the morning._

She stopped and looked uncertainly over at Adanel by the stove.

Adanel went on stirring, but asked over her shoulder: ‘You have a question?’

‘Many questions,’ admitted Andreth. ‘How can I find gallock? How much of the powdered root should I use? Am I supposed to add water? And why has it got to be dwarven ale?’

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to anyone who might have expected more dwarves in here!
> 
> "Ealc" is a Nandorin (Ossiriandic) word for "swan", here used as a name for a Green Elf.
> 
> The remedy in the third drabble draws on an early medieval (Anglo-Saxon) source.


End file.
